


Romantic Gestures

by regenderate



Series: Be Held Verse [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 17:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regenderate/pseuds/regenderate
Summary: “I’d like to propose to my girlfriend," Faith said, "and I’m told rings are good for that.”The saleswoman looked taken aback for a moment, looking between Faith and the two kids with her. Faith gave her best polite smile, waiting for the other shoe to drop.“You’d be right,” the saleswoman finally said. “What kind of ring are you looking for?”--Faith proposes to Buffy! It's cute!





	Romantic Gestures

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Be Held series, but you can read it without reading the rest of the series. Context: Faith and Buffy are gal pals who live together, foster baby Slayers, and teach "gym class" (read: fighting) at the local boarding school for girls with superstrength (read: baby Slayers).

Faith wanted to marry Buffy.

The thought surprised her one day. She was putting away practice mats after one of their classes, and Buffy was on the other side of the room doing some ridiculous handstand on top of the pull-up bar just to show she could, and Faith looked at her and thought, _I want to marry that girl._

She didn’t notice that she was staring until Buffy flipped back onto her feet. She covered it up by calling out, “Show-off!” and turning back to her work.

“That’s me,” Buffy answered, cheerful, and Faith glanced back to see her pull her hair out of its ponytail. As it cascaded around her shoulders, Faith had the thought again.

_I want to marry that girl._

Faith spend the next few days thinking about this. She had never thought that she would want to marry anybody, and now she did, and that meant she had to have all the fantasies she should have had as a kid in the span of a few days. Buffy had told her once, when they were both seventeen, about her dream wedding-- a white dress, flowers everywhere, a perfect kiss. Back then, Angel had been the object of Buffy’s eye, and when Buffy asked Faith what her dream wedding was like, Faith had just shrugged and brushed it off with a joke.

Now, remembering Buffy’s dream wedding, Faith realized she wanted it too. Not in a white dress, of course. Buffy could do the dress; Faith was going tux or nothing. But the rest-- the flowers, and the kiss, and the dancing and the dumb speeches and everything else-- Faith wanted that.

It took her about a week to get rid of her skin-crawling fear of the whole thing. She was getting better with commitment, but not better enough that wanting to get married didn’t mess with her head a little bit. She didn’t say anything to Buffy, either; they were basically married already, so it wasn’t like there was that much to discuss, and part of seventeen-year-old Buffy’s marriage fantasy involved a perfect proposal. So Faith let the idea settle comfortably into her mind, and then she decided to get outside advice.

She debated who to go to, but then she was lagging behind in the locker room with Kennedy one day, and Buffy had already left to go round up their foster Slayers of the month, and Kennedy asked, “So, how are you and Buffy?”

Faith hesitated, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. As it turned out, she shouldn’t have, because what she wound up saying was, “She’s good.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kennedy asked.

Faith felt herself blushing. That was no good. She had a reputation to maintain as the suave older Slayer. She turned away from Kennedy. “You challenging my love?” she asked, trying to sound flippant.

“No challenge,” Kennedy said. “Come on. I need to live vicariously through somebody.” Kennedy hadn't had a girlfriend since she had broken up with Willow a while back, which meant she spent a lot of time bothering Faith about Buffy now.

Faith turned back around and shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you, Ken. I’m not the talkative type.”

“You talk,” Kennedy said. “When I bug you enough.”

Faith sighed and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I guess,” she said. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

“Nope,” Kennedy replied.

Faith turned to face Kennedy and took a deep breath. “I was kind of thinking about proposing.”

Kennedy’s eyebrows shot right up. “You’re going to propose to Buffy?’

Faith shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “I have to figure it out first.” She glanced at her watch. “And if I don’t go now, B’ll wonder what’s taking me so long. I’ll text you?”

“You’d better,” Kennedy agreed.

Faith left the locker room and walked out into the chilly October air. Buffy was already in the passenger seat of the car with the three baby Slayers who were currently living with them squished into the back. Faith opened the driver’s side door and got in, grinning at Buffy. “Kennedy says hi,” she said.

“She could’ve said hi when we were training in the same gym,” Buffy said.

“Faith!” one of the Slayers-- eight-year-old Kamala-- called from the backseat. “Guess what I made today!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Buffy told Faith.

Faith started the car. “Yeah?”

“You have to guess,” Kamala said.

“She made you guys stakes,” the older and ever so much wiser Naira said from just behind Faith. Faith could practically hear the crossed arms.

“Hey!” Kamala exclaimed. “You weren’t supposed to tell!”

There was a bit of a commotion. Faith started backing the car out of the parking space, watching Kamala elbow Naira in the rearview mirror.

“Buffy!” Naira cried. “She elbowed me!”

“Don’t do that,” Buffy said.

Faith glanced at Buffy out of the corners of her eyes and stifled a laugh. “Hey, B, do you think we could get the Watchers to fund us a minivan?”

“I’m driving a minivan over my own dead body,” Buffy answered.

“Two things, B,” Faith said. “One, you died twice, so technically this _is_ your dead body, twice, and two, you don’t drive.”

“You don’t let me drive,” Buffy corrected.

“For good reason.” Faith glanced in the rearview mirror at the kids, who were still struggling. “And we’ve failed as foster parents if these kids kill each other in the back seat.”

“You got me there,” Buffy said.

“You died?” Kamala asked.

Buffy and Faith looked at each other and grinned.

“Told you you had to be careful with the slaying,” Buffy said. “Don’t end up dead like me.”

“But if you do,” Faith said, “feel free to come back to life.”

After dinner, Kamala and Naira sat in the kitchen and did their homework, Buffy put three-year-old Chana to bed, and Faith sat on the couch in the living room and texted Kennedy.

 

Me: _now you can’t say i didn’t text._

Ken: _give me the dirt!_

Me: _not much dirt._

Ken: _whatever. do you know what kind of ring you’re getting? when are you going to do it? what are you going to do???? come on, faith. sad single me wants to know_

Me: _i don’t know, i don’t know, and i really don’t know. give a girl time to get used to the idea, ken!_

Ken: _keep me posted!!!_

Me: _will do. B’s comin back & i said i’d hang with her tonight but i’ll talk to you tomorrow _

 

Faith flicked her phone off and tossed it to the side just as Buffy came in, flinging herself next to Faith on the couch.

“Chana asked me to read _Good Night, Gorilla_ to her five times,” she groused. “In _Hebrew_. One of these days I’m sticking you with tuck-in duty.”

“Hey, I happen to like _Good Night, Gorilla_.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Faith slung an arm around Buffy’s shoulder. “Well, kid’s in bed now. I salute your hard work.”

There was a patter of footsteps behind them, and Faith and Buffy both turned around on the couch to see Kamala, holding a worksheet.

“Can one of you help me with my math homework?”

“I got it,” Faith said, motioning for Kamala to come closer. Maybe she had dropped out of high school, but she had passed third grade with flying colors. “What’s up?”

Kamala showed her a worksheet. It was easy stuff-- some decimal thing. Faith worked through it with her, and when she was done, Kamala grinned and ran back to the kitchen with her page.

Faith settled back onto the couch, suddenly aware that Buffy was looking at her.

“What? Didn’t know I knew math?”

All Buffy said was, “You’re good with her.”

Faith shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a girl of many talents.” She clicked the TV on. “Now if you make me watch anything in the reality show genre, I’m going Slayer on your ass.”

“My ass can take it,” Buffy replied, plucking the remote out of Faith’s hands.

Faith lunged for it, and Buffy held it out of reach, forcing Faith to land across her lap. As Faith grabbed at the remote, she had that thought again. _I want to marry this girl._

As she was thinking it, Buffy called to Naira and threw the remote to her (and she caught it, of course she did, damn Slayer reflexes), and Faith had to abandon her thought in favor of trying to convince Naira to throw the remote back.

Naira ran away and hid it instead, and Faith gave up in favor of kicking her feet onto Buffy’s lap and settling down to watch a bunch of assholes fight over frosting or something.

The next day, as Faith was jogging laps around the gym before the last class of the day, Kennedy came in and caught up with her.

“You got any ideas yet?”

“When do you go off to school?” Faith teased.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” Kennedy said. “But you still have to dish.”

“Fine, fine.” Faith slowed a little bit. “Best idea I’ve got is I get her to patrol or spar or something, I go down on one knee while her back is turned, she turns around, she’s mine.”

“She’s already yours. Are you sure you want to do it while Slaying? Sounds dangerous.”

“Maybe,” Faith said. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Kennedy assured her, “Buffy loves you, whatever you do.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Faith cut across the gym to get some water just as Buffy came in.

“Hey, B,” she said. “You ready to kick some ass?” They had promised this next class that they’d spar each other, theoretically as an educational thing, but mostly because they were pretty sure the Slayers had a betting pool going on who would win between them, and they weren’t about to explain that they’d done the fight thing already.

“Always, Faith,” Buffy answered, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”

Faith grinned. “I’m not going down that easy.”

Buffy won the fight, and Faith definitely saw money change hands, but she had more important things on her mind, anyway. So she was the real winner, or something.

The next day was a Saturday, and Buffy had plans with Willow and Xander, so Faith took Chana and Kamala to the mall under the pretense of buying new clothes. Sure, they needed more clothes, but Faith also needed advice. She was kind of crap at the whole romantic gestures thing, but Kamala was always talking about wanting someone to sweep her off her feet. It was funny, hearing an eight-year-old talk about being swept off her feet, but it was also exactly what Faith, as someone who had always wanted to be doing the sweeping, needed to hear about.

So as she walked hand-in-hand through department stores with Kamala, pushing Chana in a stroller, she said, “Hey, Kam, you can keep a secret, right?”

“Yeah,” Kamala said. “But only if it’s a nice one.”

“Don’t worry,” Faith said. “I need your help on something.”

“I’m helpful!” Kamala answered.

“I’m hel-ful too!” Chana echoed from the stroller.

“You can help, too,” Faith told her. “I’m gonna propose to B.”

“Propose what?” Kamala asked.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Faith explained. “You know, down on one knee, walk down the aisle kind of thing?”

“Oh!” Kamala squealed. “You’re going to marry Buffy!”

“She’s still gotta say yes,” Faith said. “That’s why it’s a secret. I have to ask her.”

“Okay,” Kamala said.

“But I have to get her a ring first,” Faith explained. “So I need your help figuring out what to get.”

“You need a really nice diamond,” Kamala said. “But it can’t be too big, okay? It has to be a little diamond. Tasteful.”

Faith almost laughed. Kamala was talking like a professional ring stylist or something. “You been reading too many trash magazines?” she asked.

“It’s not my fault Buffy leaves them around,” Kamala answered.

“Whatever,” Faith said. “After we find you some new pajamas, we’ll go to a jewelry store.”

“Okay,” Kamala said.

“Sound good, Chana?”

“No,” Chana whined. “I wanna walk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Faith said, stopping the stroller in front of a pajama display. “Kam, you want to pick something out?”

“Yeah.” Kamala turned to picking pajamas, and Faith picked Chana up out of her stroller. Minutes later, Kamala’s pajamas had joined the mountain of other clothes in the back of the stroller, and the three of them had checked out and were heading through the mall to the jewelry store.

The minute they entered the store, Faith felt out of place. Everything in the store was glittery, delicate, and beautiful-- not exactly the best place for a messed up ex-con from the streets of Boston. Even the boxy lines of her jean jacket and dark purple of her shirt felt too rough, like they were going to jump off Faith’s skin and contaminate the gold and the glitter around them.

But Kamala immediately ran up to the counter, and so Faith lifted a protesting Chana into the stroller and followed. “Don’t break anything,” she called.

A saleswoman slid down the counter to them. “May I help you?”

“Yeah,” Faith said. “I’d like to propose to my girlfriend, and I’m told rings are good for that.”

The saleswoman looked taken aback for a moment, looking between Faith and the two kids with her. Faith gave her best polite smile, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You’d be right,” the saleswoman finally said. “What kind of ring are you looking for?”

“Something sunny,” Faith decided. “And-- Kamala had some ideas.”

Ten minutes later, Faith, Kamala, and Chana left the store, a diamond ring with a simple gold band in Faith’s pocket.

“You have to tell me the minute you do it,” Kamala said in the car on the way home.

“You and Kennedy both,” Faith grumbled. “It’s not like you guys are the ones trying to get married.”

“Yeah, but I want to know!” Kamala said.

“I wanna know, too!” Chana interjected.

“You don’t even know what there is to know,” Kamala scoffed.

“I do so know,” Chana said. “Faith is going to give Buffy a ring.”

Faith laughed from the front seat. “Don’t tell Buffy, okay, Chana?”

“Okay.”

All the same, Faith had better get this done fast, before the whole world knew about it. And, more importantly, before the whole world told Buffy.

So, this was it, then. The day Faith finally got over her commitment issues. She had been trying to think of some elaborate plan, but she still couldn’t think of anything good, so she decided to just kind of see what happened. It was surprisingly hard to get Buffy alone, anyway, what with the kids at home and the kids at school and all the other people constantly concerned about making the world not end. But the next day was a Sunday, which meant no school, at least, and hopefully no world-ending evil. Or, at least, no world-ending evil that required immediate action from the U. K.

By the time Faith got home with Chana, Kamala, and all their new clothes, Buffy was back and in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good, which was a relief. Buffy’s cooking could be a little hit or miss, but hell if Faith was going to be the one to say that.

She leaned against the doorway of the kitchen and watched for a moment. Buffy’s back was turned as she stirred something on the stove.

“What are you making?” Faith asked.

Buffy jumped and turned. “I totally heard you come in,” she said.

“Sure,” Faith said, smiling. God, it was so weird how she was always smiling with Buffy. She wasn’t really a big smiler, generally. “If you say so.”

“I’m making pasta,” Buffy said. “With sauce. Pasta sauce. Hopefully non-burned pasta sauce.”

“I believe in you,” Faith said, completely deadpan.

“Shut up,” Buffy said, turning back to her pasta.

“You wish,” Faith answered. She was _smiling_ again. What was _up_ with that? It had been years and she still wasn’t used to it. She stepped around the island in the middle of the kitchen to snake her arm around Buffy’s waist and look at the pasta sauce. “Looks good, B.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said, leaning up for a kiss. “Where are Chana and Kamala?”

“Chana’s in the playroom,” Faith said. “No clue where Kamala went.”

“She’s probably in her room,” Buffy said.

They didn’t say anything for a moment. Faith considered whipping the ring out right there, but there wasn’t actually all that much room between the stove and the island, and the floor was kind of gross for knees anyway. And Buffy was cooking, and Faith didn’t want to be the reason Buffy burned dinner. (And, besides, she was still kind of nervous. But she wasn’t about to admit that to anybody but herself.)

So she just asked, “Need any help?”

“I’m almost done,” Buffy said. “You could set the table?”

“I’m on it,” Faith said.

Ten minutes later, Faith was sitting around the table with Buffy and the baby Slayers, eating pasta and feeling generally weird. This whole scene felt like a dream, like something surreal that her twelve-year-old self had thought up in the middle of the night while listening to her drunk mother argue with a boyfriend. She had superpowers, and she was using them to teach other people how to fight while living in a house with her blonde California girlfriend and three kids and a ring in her pocket. This was not how Lehane lives usually turned out.

She was brought out of her reflections by Buffy asking, “So, what did you guys get at the mall today?”

Faith froze, sure that Chana or Kamala would betray her secret. But if Chana was about to speak, it was drowned out by Kamala saying, “I got new pajamas! They have hearts on them. And shoes that fit me, and a new pink shirt that doesn’t have tears in it, and lots of other stuff.”

“We got you some pants, too,” Faith reminded her.

“Yeah. And some of them are really nice for fighting in. I tested them.”

Buffy’s eyes widened as she looked at Faith.

“Nothing broken, B,” Faith said. “Dressing rooms are pretty big these days, didn’t you know?”

Buffy snorted.

“And Chana got shoes, too,” Kamala rattled on, “and a really pretty new red dress. How was your day?” She glanced at Faith, then looked intently back at Buffy.

“It was good,” Buffy said. “Willow says hi.”

“Hi, Willow!” Chana exclaimed.

“Things at home okay, Naira?” Faith asked.

“Not much happened,” Naira said. “I made lunch in the microwave without burning anything, so I’m ahead of some people.”

“That was months ago,” Buffy protested.

A smile formed at the edge of Naira’s lips. “I haven’t been with you two for that long.”

Buffy immediately started protesting. Faith just grinned into her spaghetti, watching Buffy jab her fork in Naira’s direction. _I want to marry that girl_ , she thought.

After dinner, Faith put Chana to bed. She did indeed have to read _Good Night, Gorilla_ five times in Hebrew (fortunately, a kind Dawn had transcribed it into the Latin alphabet, and Faith knew the book well enough in English to deliver a convincing performance). While she was doing it, she got an idea, and the minute Chana dropped off to sleep somewhere in the middle of reading number five, she went downstairs to where Buffy was loading the dishwasher.

“You want to go for a walk or something?” she asked, surreptitiously putting her hand in her pocket to make sure the ring was still there.

“Like, a patrol, or just a walk?” Buffy asked.

“Just a walk,” Faith said, picking up a plate. “Maybe with stakes, just in case.”

“What about the kids?”

“Chana’s asleep,” Faith said. “Naira’s here. And we won’t be gone long. Come on, B. Where’s your sense of fun?”

“Back at Hemery High, when I got Called,” Buffy sighed.

“So, come walk with me. It’s barely even fun. It’s grown-up fun. Perfect for a tight-ass like you.”

Buffy smiled as she poured soap into the dishwasher. “Okay.” She took Faith’s hand. “I’m in.”

They told Naira where they were going. She barely looked up from her book long enough to acknowledge it, but she did acknowledge it, and so Buffy and Faith hit the street.

The neighborhood around their house was nice at night. The moon was bright and luminous in the sky. Holding Buffy’s hand, Faith thought that she could fight off all the vampires in the world if she got to do it with Buffy under this moon.

“Do you ever feel more comfortable at night?” Buffy asked. “Like, somehow you’re meant for it?”

“Yeah,” Faith said. “A Slayer thing, I guess.”

“Fewer people, more vampires.”

There weren’t any vampires now, though. Just the sound of crickets as Faith and Buffy wandered around the neighborhood.

“I think we’ve scared ‘em off,” Faith joked.

“Too bad that didn’t work in Sunnydale,” Buffy agreed. It turned out that in a quiet suburb _not_ on a Hellmouth, vampires were generally pretty timid. It made for a good training environment, at any rate.

But still, somehow, just when Faith least expected it, a vampire jumped out from the shadows. Faith looked at Buffy and grinned, tossing her hair back. “Ready to show this guy a good time?”

“Am I ever.”

Faith took her stake from her jacket pocket and lunged for the vampire, whose eyes widened in shock as she grabbed him.

“Hey, want a tip?” she growled. “If you’re going to eat people, try to avoid the oldest of the Slayers.”

The vampire’s eyes grew even wider, and then a moment later, his eyes (and the rest of him) were dust. Buffy had shoved her own stake through his heart from the back.

“Hey,” Faith said. “I was going to do that.”

“Yeah?” Buffy asked. “Well, do it quicker next time.”

Faith sighed dramatically. “You know, B, I drive you and the kids to school every day, I slay vampires, and do I get any thanks?”

“I slay, too,” Buffy said. “And I’d drive to school, but you won’t let me!”

“And even Red agrees that I shouldn’t,” Faith argued. “And she’s about the nicest person I know, when she’s not evil.”

“Whatever,” Buffy said. “Guess this means you’d better stick around, huh?”

“Yep,” Faith said. Her mouth was suddenly dry. “You’ve finally figured it out. I’m spending the rest of my life with you so I can drive you to work every day.”

Buffy’s voice was quiet when she spoke. “The rest of your life?” Quiet, and hopeful.

“Shit. Guess we’re doing this. Hang on.”

Faith took the ring out of her pocket and dropped to one knee right there on the sidewalk.

“B, I figured today was going to be the day I finally got the hell over my commitment issues. I’m into you, you’re into me, I figure we might as well make it forever and be done.”

Buffy was laughing. Faith figured that was a good sign.

“ _That’s_ how you’re proposing?” she asked.

“Well? Did it work?” Faith asked. “I don’t want to get my pants all dirty for nothing.”

Buffy was _still_ laughing. “Your pants are _black_ ,” she said. “And of course it worked. I told you years ago it would work.”

“Thank god.” Faith stood up, and Buffy pulled her into a kiss.

And then she let go. “You have to put the ring on me,” she said. “It’s part of the whole childhood fantasy thing.”

Faith laughed. “Guess we’ll have to start looking for the laciest white dress they sell,” she said. She took Buffy’s hand and slid the ring onto it. Even in the moonlight, it glittered.

“It’s beautiful,” Buffy said.

“Blame Kamala,” Faith answered. “I don’t know how that girl knows you this well after just a few months.”

“Kamala helped? When did Kamala help?”

“At the jewelers’ in the mall today,” Faith said. “Apparently, she reads your trash magazines.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She kissed Faith again. “Thanks.”

“No problem, B,” Faith said. She took Buffy’s hand, and they started walking again. “We’ve come a long way from stabbing each other in the dead of night, huh?”

“We really have,” Buffy agreed. “I bet if you told eighteen-year-old me that I’d be willingly living in the same house as you forever she’d have punched you.”

“She’d’ve punched me anyway,” Faith said. “What if you told her she likes girls?”

“She knew,” Buffy said. “She didn’t want to.”

“No way! What about beefcake?”

“If you’re talking about Riley,” Buffy said, “I liked him too. That’s what bisexual means.”

Faith laughed. “Whatever,” she said. She couldn’t really imagine being as close with a boy as she was with Buffy. Of course, she couldn’t really imagine being as close with _anyone_ as she was with Buffy, but that was a whole different thing. “Do we have to actually plan a wedding now?”

“You’re not getting out of this one,” Buffy said.

When they got back to the house, Kamala ran out at them.

“Faith, did you ask her?”

“Ask her what?” Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows at Faith.

Kamala seemed genuinely stumped as to an answer, and Faith rolled her eyes. “Of course I did,” she said. “She’s just being dumb.”

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your future wife?”

“If you’re going to lie to our foster children, yes,” Faith said, over the flutter in her stomach that came with the phrase “future wife.”

Buffy smiled at her, and it was such a sappy and sweet smile that Faith could feel her bones melting a little bit.

And then Kamala threw her arms around them both, and Naira actually looked up from her book long enough to come into the room to see what was going on, and Buffy showed her the ring, and Faith felt kind of like she was doing something right, marrying Buffy. Like now she kind of had a family.

It was nice. If she’d told herself at seventeen, eighteen, that this was going to be her future, she would have run screaming in the other direction. But now, it was nice. Not bad, as futures went. Certainly better than life in prison.

As Buffy pulled out her phone to call Willow, Faith pulled her phone out of her pocket to text Kennedy.

Me:  _turns out i'm wildly successful with the ladies. who knew?_

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote the actual proposal part of this, I got actual butterflies, as if I was somehow nervous about Faith proposing to Buffy.
> 
> Good thing I, the writer, control the outcome.
> 
> Also I just noticed this has 4,444 words so it's blessed
> 
> (10/9/18: I made a minor edit to Kennedy's life I guess to make this take place closer to when I imagine it would)


End file.
